Matters of Importance
by ValandMarcelle
Summary: "Up until the day before, there had been a certain air of mystery surrounding Jack Kelly and the strangely distant attitude he had been adopting for the past week."
1. Chapter 1

**Well, this turned out much differently than I planned it. **

**I wanted to write something that focused around the one and only Racetrack Higgins, because he's amazing. And suddenly it turned into borderline angst, as that seems to be my default setting. But I'm not sorry, because I think this turned pretty well, and I hope to display the friendship between Jack and Race further. This will probably be a two or three-shot, we'll just have to...watch what happens...XD **

**Enjoy!**

**-Marcelle **

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><p>They were fourteen years old when Jack was sent to the Refuge again. Race was with him on the day it happened, and he spent every day after that wishing he'd made any other choice than the one he had.<p>

They'd left the lodging house early that morning, much earlier than any of the others would have expected. Jack had made it unmistakably clear that he would skin Race alive should he breathe even one word of their escapade to even one of the boys, and Race had of course known better than to question the authenticity of a Jack Kelly threat.

And so he followed their leaderout into the morning mist, with only the most basic idea of what they were setting out to accomplish.

Up until the day before, there had been a certain air of mystery surrounding Jack Kelly and the strangely distant attitude he had been adopting for the past week. He seemed to be more tense than usual, his temper short and his smiles rarer to come by.

Some of the younger boys had caught on to the unsual act somewhat quickly, with that strange intuition children seem to have, and had confronted Race about the issue rather than facing their leader himself.

"What'sa matta with Jack?" Jojo had questioned curiously the day before, his eyes wide as he started up at Race for an answer. The older boy shifted slightly, wanting to provide Jojo with some form of reassurance but knowing anything he could say would be pure assumption. He really had no idea what was going on-Jack hadn't spoken much to anyone in the past few days, not even Crutchie, much less Race. He couldn't even begin to imagine what the problem was.

"I dunno, kid. Maybe he's just havin' a bad day," Race guessed with a shrug and sympathetic smile, which faded a bit at the doubtful look that crossed Jojo's features.

"Yeah. Maybe," the younger boy sighed before adjusting his shoulder bag and heading back down the street. Race watched him go, the concern Jojo had shown both tugging on his heartstrings and reminding him that he had to talk to Jack, get some insight on whatever was bothering him.

After all, he'd heard the expression-two heads were better than one. If Jack needed some kind of help, Race was more than willing to provide it for him. He didn't want the boys to worry any more than they had to, and he was sure Jack shared the same view.

He eventually found the eldest among them on a street corner a few blocks away, leaning up against a lightpost and half-heartedly calling out the headline to the few passersby. Most of them were oblivious to his exsistence, walking right by him without sparing a glance, but Jack didn't seem to care in the slightest. His mind was clearly in another place, and dang it all if Race wasn't going to find his way there.

"'Ey, Jackie, you still awake over there?" He shouted as he made his way down the couple of blocks that seperated them. Jack slowly turned his head to meet the sound of Race's voice, rolling his eyes as the other boy lightly punched him on the shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm fine. What's it to you?" Jack retorted, sounding almost indignant, a tone he rarely used that immediately set Race on edge. He was already defending himself, and Race hadn't even come close to accusing him of anything.

That in itself solidified the worry in Race's mind-there was clearly a problem with Jack, and there was no more time to beat around the bush.

"Look, the boys is worried 'boutcha. And so am I. You'se been actin' weird for days now, Jack. Somethin' ain't right, and you betta tell me what that is right now, or I swear I'll soak ya where ya stand," he threatened, his resolve ringing through his words. He wasn't backing down now-he was getting to the bottom of this unnecessary mystery.

Jack sighed, removing his cap and running a hand through his short hair, a sort of tell he had that all the boys had picked up on by now. It was just another show of the nervous fidgting Race had seen coming from Jack all week, and he knew it meant he was about to get some form of an answer.

"I...I've just been a little stressed out lately, alright?" the newsie leader finally forced out in a huff, shooting Race a glare that told him Jack had already said more than he wanted to admit. Unfortunately, Race's curiosity was only spurred further by the vague response, and he never gave up so easily.

"Whaddya mean? What's botherin' ya?" he pressed, taking a puff of his ever-present cigar and raising an eyebrow. As far as Race could tell, there were no real pressing matters at the moment for Jack to be concerning himself with.

As the weather grew colder, the bulls were spending less time outdoors, instead preferring the warmth of the station downtown. There had been significantly less sightings of the oh-so-lovely Delancey brothers as well, most likely for the same reason.

Sure, the chill in the air hadn't been so great for the business, and the crummy headlines didn't exactly do the situation much of a favor, but they weren't starving yet, and Race took that as a good sign.

"We ain't doin' so hot right now, Race," Jack, of course, immediately disproved the other boy's theory with nothing more than a sigh, a worry crossing over his face that made him look much older than he really was. "The funds is runnin' short, I've had ta pay a couple 'a the guy's rent, and...well, we ain't got much left. By way 'a clothes and stuff, I mean. I don't know how much longer we can get by. I...I'm afraid we'se might starve or freeze if somethin' don't change."

Not so much as a moment of tense silence passed before Race was able to wrap his head around what Jack was saying. And it scared him to his very core.

"Dang it, Jack!" Race practically shouted before managing to reign in his temper, a kind of anger almost overtaking him at Jack's grim report. He couldn't help but almost feel indignant to have been left in the dark when it came to such an important matter.

He considered himself almost the second-in-command in the group, as he was the second oldest and veteran lodging house resident. The newsies were just as much a part of Race's family as they were of Jack's-he cared about their well-being far more than his own.

It was one for all and all for one with them, which meant no secrets. So how could Jack have kept that inside to himself for so long, especially when their very survival was at stake? "Ya gotta tell us stuff like that! We can help, ya don't have to deal with this by yourself! You ain't solely responsible for us or nothin', Jack."

"Yeah, but...I feel like I am, ya know? I didn't tell you'se 'cause I didn't want the boys ta worry. I've been tryin' ta hide it. Clearly I ain't doin' such a good job of that. But I can handle this," Jack insisted, looking Race dead in the eye and holding his gaze. He was very obviously trying to convince Race of something he had no ounce of faith in himself, and Race didn't believe him for a minute.

"No, you can't. No one can, and you'se of all people shouldn't have to," he argued instead, putting a hand on Jack's shoulder. The older boy seemed to visibly relax at the touch, as though he had been waiting for someone to steady him. Someone to help him lift the burden off of his shoulders, or at least someone to share it. "I won't tell the boys if that's whatcha want, but I as sure as Jacobi's mustache ain't gonna let you think you can take on all of this by yourself. I'm gonna help ya, and whether you likes it or not don't matta."

"C'mon, Race, I-"

"Jack Kelly, I swear, if you make me say that again, Crutchie won't be the only one around here with a bum leg by the time I'm through with ya," Race's serious demeanor lasted only a few more seconds before he gave a laugh at the empty threat, his hopes lifting as Jack even cracked a smile. "Besides, I ain't gonna let ya get all the glory as the guy who single-handedly saved the newsies. You'se already got a big enough head."

The elder boy chuckled lightly as he playfully yanked Race's hat down over his eyes, but his weary disposition hadn't quite disappeared. He seemed to mulling over Race's offer, as though he wanted to accept the help but was almost afraid to.

He was still keeping something to himself, something that he was purposefully leaving out, and it was making it incredibly difficult for Race to remain at least somewhat positive. The prospect of the boys starving or freezing was a nightmare in and of itself, but Jack's refusal to reveal everything made it even worse.

"Alright, fine. If ya wanna help so bad, I'll let ya come with me tomorrow morning. I got somewhere I gotta be," Jack finally relented, but still clinging to his secrecy. Race rolled his eyes, wishing Jack would just drop the act and say all that he needed to say.

"And where would that be?" He questioned, folding his arms tight against his chest as he awaited Jack's answer. But the older newsboy hesitated for a moment, and Race couldn't help but feel a certain worry blooming inside of him.

He'd been doing his best to handle the situation in a way that would help Jack as much as possible, even through his own now very real fear of what would happen to the rest of the boys, and he was still determined to aid in their survival in any way he could.

And yet, something about Jack's wary expression told him that their location wouldn't be somewhere he would be entirely pleased about.

"Well, I kinda went and, uh...joined a gang. They're expectin' me ta help 'em rob a place tomorrow."

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><p><strong>Oh Jack, what have you gotten yourself into? Don't forget to review! Prompts are always happily welcomed as well!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Hooray, I finally finished Chapter 2! This is cause for celebration! **

***confetti, Seize the Day playing in the distance* **

**Okay, party's over. Time to get down to business.**

**Enjoy!**

**-Marcelle**

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><p>"Of all the halfwit ideas you've had, Jack, this is really the dumbest one of 'em all!"<p>

To say that Race was angry would have been the understatement of the century. The reality of his fury extended much further, to the point where he could only think of a word he saw in a headline once to classify this new emotion-livid.

"You really think is gonna help us? You hangin' around with the scabs and gettin' paid ta steal from some poor old guy? I mean, I know we ain't the most honest guys around, but I at least thought we was better than this!" He ranted, almost unable to contain himself at the thought of what Jack had done.

His choice was nothing short of idiotic, and Race wasn't going to stand for it. Jack may have been older, but clearly that did not make him any wiser.

"What did you want me to do, Race? Huh? We don't got many options at this point, an' I'd get caught on my own. And I ain't gettin' paid, we'se just splitting whatever we can take. But, you know...safety in numbers, right?" Their leader tried to attempt reason, but his efforts fell on Race's admittedly deaf ears. What Jack was trying to tell him really did not make even a hint of sense to the other boy.

"Not _their_ numbers, Jack, _ours_! Ya don't need ta turn to some gang to get help, don'tcha know that by now?" Race argued, his features seeming more animated thanks to the river of constant anger that flowed through him-both at the situation itself as well as Jack's method of handling it.

Did he really have such little faith in the rest of the newsies? Couldn't he trust them to provide aid in their own survival? "Me an' the boys, we woulda helped ya the moment you snapped your fingers!"

"That's what I was afraid of...you guys havin' ta risk your necks for somethin' that I can tackle on my own," Jack murmured in response, and for a moment, Race found it difficult to keep up his frustrated persona.

The elder newsie looked so concerned about the rest of them, so willing to do whatever it took to keep them safe, that it seemed almost wrong to be upset with him.

Almost.

"And so you decided to join a gang 'a thugs who'd pound ya to the ground the minute ya stepped outa line rather than just trustin' your own family?" Race pressed the matter, intent on changing Jack's ways. His reasoning was completely out of line, and Race considered it his own personal duty to get it back on track again. If he had to demean their leader a bit in the process, so be it.

Jack would get over it, he might even thank Race later. "Yeah, real smart. Well, it doesn't matta now. I can help ya find some way ta get us by, you just gotta tell that gang that you'se is out of their little operation."

He crossed him arms in what was meant to come across as a defiant stance, one that showed he meant business. There was no way Jack was really going to go through with his half-baked plan, not if Race had any say in the matter. Which, as of now, he did.

"Look, Race, it's a little more complicated than that," Jack sighed, his fingers once again runnig through his hair as he gave a rather withering sort of please drop it look that Race was certainly not going to obey.

"What's so hard about it? Just tell 'em you're done and walk away. What're they gonna do?" he pressed instead, shrugging his shoulders with the confidence he wished Jack had at the moment. He seemed to underestimate how much power he really had.

Jack Kelly could be pretty darn intimidating when the mood struck him, he just needed to realize that. Once he did that, then-

"They'll come after you guys, that's what."

Jack held his gaze as he spoke the words, his voice solid with a kind of solemnity that stopped Race in his tracks. A moment seemed pass by in slow motion as he tried to work out this new piece of information, and soon the wheels began to turn.

The implications of the simple sentence were far greater than he could have imagined, but now things were beginning to click into place. Race pushed back an overwhelming sense of guilt that welled up in him at the thought of his attitude towards his friend earlier, the thought of his own ignorance.

Jack's strange behavior, his distance, his refusal to get anyone else involved...that gang of his had threatened the rest of the newsies. That was why Jack couldn't just leave.

"I joined them after I almost got caught stealin' a first time. I guess they saw me an' were impressed or somethin', I don't know. They asked me if I wanted ta join 'em, and I said no, 'cause I already had you'se guys. But then they said if I didn't...uh...not very pleasant things would happen to the rest of ya. I'm not lettin' that happen, Race. If I bail, they'll just find the boys and...and hurt 'em to make sure I stay." Jack lowered his eyes, looking as though nothing else could bring him greater shame-or greater fear.

"Apparently I'm the best they got or whatever, and they don't want me ta leave. That's why I didn't tell ya earlier. 'Cause I couldn't."

Race breathed deeply through his nose, exhaling as he let the situation settle into his reality. Their position was compromising, to say the least. Either Jack continued to get deeper in over his head with the gang until he had no way out, or the rest of the newsies would be put in jeopardy.

It was looking like a no-win scenario, but Race decided right then and there that he was not going to lie down and accept it. Jack wasn't alone in this anymore, and it was time for him to stop acting like it.

"Well, it's a good thing ya did now, Jackie-boy," He put an arm around his friends shoulder, wishing he hadn't noticed the way Jack's muscles felt tense and rigid under his arm. "Now ya got me, an' you know I ain't gonna let some gang think they can get a one-up on us. I'm gonna go with ya tomorrow, and we'll figure somethin' out. You an' me."

"Are you sure you wanna do this, Race?" Jack asked in all seriousness, as though he actually believed Race would back out just when Jack clearly needed him the most.

"You kiddin' me? Things is finally gettin' interestin' around here!" He insisted, feeling a smile broaden on his face. His life had taken a sharp nosedive that would surely only spiral deeper as the morning came, but Race couldn't help but feel confident that it wouldn't last forever.

There had to be some way out, some secret loophole or escape route that they could take to get the other kids out of the mess that most of them didn't even know they were in.

Jack had taken on this enormous burden with the intention of keeping it a secret, and he had done so successfully. It was now only Race that was in on their perilous situation, and he took that as a sign, that it was he who was supposed to help Jack turn it around. It was his duty now, and Race was going to see it through.

"They'se gonna regret messin' with the Manhattan newsies. That I can promise ya."

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><p><strong>I hope writing this in Race's point of view gives this an interesting perspective, as that's what I was going for. I want to update either Walk Over Us or Origins next, but hopefully the latter because Race's backstory actually ties into this fic quite nicely. I guess it just depends on public opinion on what gets done first. Please don't forget to review, and I happily welcome prompts!<strong>

** I end on one final random note: The song "Rude" by Magic! is exactly how I believe Jack's discussion with Pulitzer about marrying Katherine would go down. Just saying. **


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